


Breaking Through

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [16]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hallucinations, I mean it, Mental Health Stuff, Panic Attacks, Please Be careful, angsty fic, definite trigger warning on this, don't read it if you think it won't pan out well for you, fluffy affirmations from Piotr tho, which are always nice, your well being is more important than this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 08:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15991334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: The next stage in your recovery from your abusive childhood.Things are getting better, no doubt about it, but there's still one main hang up that Professor Xavier and your therapist --Alyssa--can't figure out. Mainly, why your memories are manifesting as visual and auditory hallucinations instead of just as, you know, memories.You're not psychotic. Or schizophrenic. Or bipolar. Or any other thing on a long list of things that could include 'hallucinations' as a side effect.Until the experts can figure out what's wrong with you, they assign Wade as your 'safe room' buddy for whenever you have episodes.Needless to say, you're not okay with the idea. Not one bit.(Set between "I'm Not as Think as You Drunk I Am" and  "Storms On a Cloudless Day." All warnings in the tags.)





	Breaking Through

When you’d contemplated what your recovery would look like, you’d figured it’d go one of two ways.

One: you’d succeed in running away from home, live with your uncle, and fully repress your traumatic childhood memories while adopting a new version of isolated life.

Or,

Two: you’d find a therapist, talk out your issues, and manage to rebuild your life from there.

And, technically, you’re basically spot on for the second way. You have a therapist, you spend an hour long session with her once a week, and you’re slowly figuring out how to glue yourself back together.

Piotr’s proud of you. Wade’s proud of you. Professor Xavier’s proud of you. Your team’s proud of you. You’re --reluctantly--proud of you.

But, for all your pride and recovery, you didn’t expect getting better to involve two telepaths traipsing through your brain on such a regular basis.

 

* * *

 

“There’s definitely a blockage around age seven,” Alyssa murmurs as she looks into your mind. “But I can’t see what it is.”

“Yes,” Professor Xavier agrees. “It’s taking up a great deal of mental space. Do you think this is the source of the episodes?”

“Mm, no, that’s just her trauma. But, whatever this is, it’s not... helping.”

You’re laying on your bed, holding Piotr’s hand while you let the Professor and your therapist look through your brain.

Good news: You’re getting better. Your episodes are happening less and less, and you’re learning to cope with your stress in healthy ways instead of just ignoring it until it explodes.

Bad news: The episodes are still happening, and no one can figure out why.

Well, that’s technically inaccurate. You know why the episodes are happening --you’re recovering from your traumatic childhood, and the episodes happened when something triggers and bad memory or your stress levels get too high.

What no one --yourself included--can figure out is why the episodes manifest the way they do.

At first, Alyssa and the Professor had thought that the memories you saw so clearly were just in your head. Like, they were real, no one doubted that, but the natural assumption was that you were just viewing them in your mind’s eye and doing some hardcore dissociation.

Which, you know, made sense. It was the most logical explanation.

However, after observing you for a few episodes, Alyssa realized that your brain was actually projecting the memories in place of whatever was around you.

Less like dissociation, more like a psychosis induced visual and auditory hallucination.

Except you weren’t psychotic --and didn’t have any mental illnesses that included psychosis as a side effect. You’d cleared every test. There wasn’t any logical explanation for why your mind was turning your memories into vivid hallucinations.

You grit your teeth and grip Piotr’s hand tighter as Professor Xavier and Alyssa scan your brain. It doesn’t hurt, fortunately, but it isn’t exactly... comfortable. 

It feels the way nails on a chalk board sound.

Piotr rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “You’re doing so well,  _myshka_. How are you feeling?”

You cringe as a particularly uncomfortable shiver goes down the back of your neck. “Like I have an itch on my brain. I wanna scratch it so bad.”

“Almost done,” Alyssa promises. “We’re just doing a quick double check...”

The ‘quick’ double check feels like a lengthy, meandering triple check, but eventually the unpleasant tickling sensation on your brain recedes. You let out a sigh of relief and relax.

And then you scratch at your scalp. “Oh my gosh, I thought I was gonna go insane.”

“You weathered that very well,” Professor Xavier says with a grimace. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any anomalies or divergences that would explain the projection of the memories.”

“Neither could I. Hank couldn’t find anything on the scans he ran, and she’s cleared all the tests with the resident psychiatrist.” Alyssa frowns. “Have you ever had a negative run in with a telepath?”

“No. I’d remember that.”

Alyssa sucks a breath through her teeth and shakes her head. “Well, for now, we’ll just have to keep treating things symptomatically. What we’re doing with the sessions is reducing her stress and the episodes, so it’s not impossible. I’d imagine that, as we dig deeper, we’ll find the explanation for what’s been going on.”

You let out a little sigh of relief and nestle against Piotr, thankful that everything seems to be done.

“However.”

Dammit. So close.

“Given that you are breaking from reality with your episodes, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in the safe rooms while you’re going through one. You need someone in there to more directly monitor you and help you come down safely.”

You frown. “Uh, impossible. I’d kill anyone who tried to sit with me. I’d know. I’ve done it before.”

Piotr wraps his arms around you, gently holding you while you try not to hyperventilate. “I am largely invulnerable in my armor. Maybe--”

“No!” You tremble as a wave of horror surges through you. “Absolutely not! I can’t--”

Alyssa pats your leg soothingly. “Easy. Breathe. You have final say on whoever sits in with you.”

You press your face against Piotr’s shoulder. “I don’t want  _anyone_  to sit with me. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“What about Mr. Wilson?” Professor Xavier suggests. “His healing factor would protect him from any adverse effects of the episode.”

You gag at the idea, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth. “No. Never. I said no one, and I meant no one.”

Alyssa purses her lips. “Y/N, it’s your choice, but this is for your safety. It’s not just to help you feel more comfortable. Wade would also be trained on how to check your grasp on reality, your memory, your other mental faculties... breaking from reality is no small deal. Given how severe and frequent your episodes are, we have to start putting you in observation after each incident to make sure that you recover properly.”

Piotr hugs you against his chest and kisses the top of your head when you start crying softly. “You know Wade would. Without question.”

He’s right, you know he’s right. Wade would, without hesitation, go through whatever training he had to help make sure you made it through your episodes safely.

Hell, he’d do it for any of his friends. The grand secret of Wade Wilson, ladies and gentlemen: his heart is three times bigger than he is. He isn’t a ‘Boy Scout,’ as he keeps calling Piotr, but he cares.

Sometimes, you worried over just  _how fucking much_  Wade cared.

You also know that you don’t really have any other options. You know that Alyssa and the Professor wouldn’t push if there was any other way.

You let out a weak sob and brace yourself against Piotr’s shoulder as you prepare yourself to utter a sentence you’d hoped you’d never have to say. “Only if he says yes.”

 

* * *

 

Wade says yes.

Of course he does. He doesn’t even hesitate.

He practically devours the book Alyssa gives him, committing everything to detail-perfect memory --even outdoing Piotr on the test he had to take, which impressed everyone, including Wade--and researches psychosis and psychosis based illnesses in his spare time.

The  _only_  good thing that comes out of this, as far as you’re concerned, is that Wade occasionally deals with his fair share of psychosis as well.

Well, correction. Wade thinks it’s great. You don’t figure out why Wade thinks it's so great until he points out that most psychosis-related illnesses were often hereditary, and it’s just another sign that the two of you are meant to be mutually adopted siblings.

After that, you agree with Wade. It’s wonderful, in it’s own bizarre way. Another connection to your weird older brother that makes your sibling relationship seem all the more  _real_.

You still wish he didn’t have to sit in with you, though.

 

* * *

 

You lament that very fact to Piotr in what’s best described as a meltdown a few weeks later.

Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as ‘break down crying and tell my boyfriend what’s wrong while he rubs my back.’ Because nothing in your life is ever. Fucking. Simple.

You feel the earliest on sets of an episode --the symptoms of a strong panic attack--while you’re making lunch.

You literally take two steps towards the safe rooms, remember the “Wade rule,” and bolt out the back door.

Outside.

In the middle of winter.

Without a coat.

Or shoes.

In hindsight, not your smartest choice.

You fly into the woods and land in a snowy clearing that you hope is large enough to prevent you from ripping up any trees. You curl into a fetal position and fall onto your side, trying to contain your pained sobs.  _I don’t want to kill anyone. I can’t deal with hurting the people I love anymore. I can’t have Wade in there with me! I can’t! I wont!_

The panic attack recedes quickly, and for once it seems like the forces of the universe are showing mercy on you, only for the sensation of panic to be replaced with another one.

Cold. Painful, freezing cold.

You gasp as you sit up, but that damage is already done. You’re soaked through, stiff as a board, and you’re basically covered in the stuff because upstate New York does snow in two versions --deep and deeper.

You try to fly back to the mansion --and find some dry clothes and maybe submerge yourself in a hot bath for an hour before Piotr finds and scolds you--but you’re shivering too hard to balance for flying. The best you can do is hover a few feet off the ground.  _Oh well_ , you think.  _Better than sitting in snow._

A bitterly chilled wind whips around you and you drop to the ground with a pained grunt.  _Or maybe not. Fuck, I didn’t think this through_.

Before you can figure out just how you’re getting back to the warmth and safety of the mansion, your attention is drawn by the sound of snow crunching underneath heavy boots.

Nathan sprints into the clearing, swearing under his breath. “What the fuck, kid? What were you thinking?”

You cough roughly. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

He sweeps you into his arms and starts carrying you in the direction of the mansion. “It’s okay. Let’s just get you inside.”

You cry weakly against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Relax, kid. We all have bad thinking moments. Right now, just focus on staying awake, okay?”

“Okay.”

At the edge of the woods --you hadn’t flown too far in, fortunately--he meets up with Piotr.

He’s in defense mode, and he looks downright panicked. His eyes widen when he sees just how  _soaked_  you are, and he immediately strips out of his coat as Nathan walks towards him. “ _Myshka_! What happened?”

“She panicked,” Nathan says, sparing you the effort of trying to talk through your chattering teeth. “We need to get her inside.”

“ _Da_.” Piotr wraps you in his jacket and starts jogging towards the mansion. “We need to get her inside  _now_.”

 

* * *

 

You wake up in Piotr’s bed a few hours later, covered in thick blankets. Fortunately, you hadn’t been outside for too long. All you really needed was a hot shower, some dry clothes, and a nap under the blankets with your boyfriend.

Who’s still in bed, sacked out next to you in his human form. His face is half pressed into the pillow, jaw slack as he breathes deep and heavy.

You turn onto your side so that you’re facing away from him and curl into a fetal position. You still feel horrible over scaring him --and everyone else, really--so bad.  _Why are you such a fuck up_? you berate yourself.  _You can’t even have a mental breakdown properly, you idiot!_

You hug your pillow against your chest and bury your face into the top of it. You just want to be better! You don’t want to have anymore episodes! You don’t want to have to sit in observation after each one, and you definitely don’t want anyone sitting in the safe room with you!

You’re a killer. It’s an undeniable truth about who you are, and you know it.

You’ve done it before.

You’ll do it again.

Piotr’s arms come around you, cradling you against his massive chest as you let out another choked sob. “ _Myshka_ , what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m so tired of being fucked up in the head!” You whimper. “I just want to be better.”

“These things take time,” he murmurs as he presses soft kisses against your forehead, your hairline, and the top of your head. “You have to be patient with yourself.”

“No,” You cry into his chest. “No! I just need to be better!”

He sits up, taking you with him and holding you in his lap. He lets out a shaky exhale as he cocoons himself around you. “That is not how it works,  _lyublyu_. It takes--”

“It can’t take time, Piotr!” You’re panicking now. “I’m a monster! I’m a killer! I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to keep doing it! I don’t want to kill Wade!”

He nearly crushes you against his chest, shoulders shaking as he cries with you. “You are  _not_  monster, Y/N. You are beautiful--”

“Babe--”

“ _Nyet. Listen to me_. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are kind, and intelligent, and wonderful. You are full of love, and you deserve to feel love also.”

“But that doesn’t change--”

“It does not change that your parents abused you, shamed you, and kept you from getting training to control powers.” His voice is sharp, insistent. “The deaths you caused are on their heads, their negligence. It is not yours to own.”

“And what about Harmony? I killed someone to save you, and I killed for the serum. What about that?”

“Self-defense and defense of others is different.”

“But I didn’t have to have the serum.”

“You can see that now. You couldn’t see that then. You can’t hold your past self to the standards your present self can meet.”

You tremble in his arms, shuddering with each ragged breath you take. “Do you really think that?”

“ _Da_. With all my heart.”

You sniff loudly and wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “Do you think I’ll kill Wade?”

“I think it is not good for you to dwell on that. Focus on getting better, not about how things could go wrong.”

You close your eyes and press your face against the side of his neck. You try to take what he says to heart, and let the thoughts of accidentally causing Wade’s death go with your next exhalation.

It works. Mostly.

You press yourself against your boyfriend, trying to get as close as you can to him. “I love you, Pete.”

“I love you too,  _myshka_.”

 

* * *

 

You focus on staying calm as much as you can. You meditate every day, take time to stop and appreciate things, use your positive self-talk skills you’re learning with Alyssa, and spend a lot of time talking to Piotr and Neena when you’re feeling down.

It works. Really well.

Until about two weeks later.

You’re going through some of your old belongings, sorting out your old clothes to hand down to the permanent resident students, should they want them.

You’re checking the pockets when you find an old note from your mother.

_I hope someday you can grow past this perversion in your spirit, that you will submit to God and allow him to cleanse you of your twisted nature, and that I will finally have the daughter I know I was meant raise--_

“Hashtag triggered,” as the kids would say.

You see flat white for a moment, enraged beyond all belief at how little she felt for you, at the notion that you were only valid as a daughter if you weren’t a mutant.

Part of you makes a mental note to ask Russell to burn the note for you.

The other part of your is suddenly, uncomfortably aware that you can hear the voices of men that aren’t in the room and see bits of forest where your bed should be.

You yank your phone out of your pocket and text Piotr, Nathan, and Wade.  _Episode. Bad. Triggered. Heading 2 safe room._

You sprint out of the room and down the stairs, desperate to get to the safe rooms before anything too atrocious happened. It’s coming on faster than usual, fueled by the note from your mother and the deep seeded, complex emotions attached to it.

Your legs give out in the hallway leading to the safe room. You let out a pained gasp as you smack into the floor. “No...”

You’re almost completely immersed in the episode now. You can barely see around the memories, and the air is swirling around you, whipping your hair around with a vengeance.

Before you can try to push yourself up, someone’s scooping you into their arms. “Alright. Play date time.”

Ah. It’s Wade. Only Wade would make a comment like that at a time like this.

He hustles you into the safe room and plops down on the floor, still holding onto you. “Okay, lock us in.”

You tense when he says that, the last vestige of your brain that’s grounded in reality protesting at the thought of him being in the room with you. “No!” You scream. “No, no, no!”

Wade just hugs you. “It’s alright, sis. I’ve got you.”

You can’t stop it. You’re too far gone. All you can do is cry as the episode finally takes over.

You just hope everything’s okay on the other side.

 

* * *

 

You come back to reality in Wade’s arms, throat raw and sore from screaming.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?”

“Throat hurts,” You croak.

“Okay. Anything else?”

“M’ head.”

“Alright.” He goes through the checklist --your name, your age, the date, where you were--to make sure that you’re connected back to reality, then checks to make sure you’re not hallucinating anymore. “Alright, she’s clearing everything.”

“Good,” Alyssa says over the intercom. “We’ll give her a little more to calm down, and then we’ll move her to the in house clinic so Dr. McCoy and the psychiatrist can check her over.”

You wince at the glare of the lights and poke Wade in the stomach. “Are you okay?”

He grins down at you. “You didn’t even make me pass out --though I do have the worst case of dry eyes  _ever_. I need to get a set of protective goggles.”

You blink, stunned. “I didn’t kill you?”

“Nope.”

“I didn’t even make you pass out?”

“Not even a little woozy!”

You beam up at him. “Oh my gosh! I didn’t hurt you! I didn’t kill you!”

He beams back and squeezes you in a happy bear hug. “You’re the bomb, sis.”

“Oh, I so fucking am.”

 

* * *

 

You wake up to the sensation of someone kissing your forehead, inhaling sharply as you regain consciousness.

“Sorry,” Piotr murmurs against your skin. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Wade had taken you to the clinic part of the mansion once Alyssa deemed it safe. You were put in a room and hooked up to an IV to help you stabilize in the wake of the episode.

You whimper and make grabby hands at your boyfriend as he draws away. “No! I wanna hug!”

He obliges you, sitting on the edge of the bed so you can loop your arms around his neck. “How are you feeling,  _moya lyubov’_?”

“Tired,” you mumble. “It was a long one, ‘pparently.”

“What happened? What triggered you?” His teeth click together when you mention the note, and he inhales deeply as he kisses your forehead again. “I am so sorry,  _dorogoy_. I will make sure it is gone before you leave clinic.”

“Thank you.” You smile brightly at him. “I didn’t kill Wade!”

He smiles back. “So I heard. Wade says you did not even make him woozy.”

“Yeah! I’m not a killer!” You pause, then frown as you think the statement through. “Well, I mean, I’ve  _killed_  people...”

“ _Nyet, myshka_. Just enjoy moment--”

“Hang on,” Alyssa says as she enters the room. “I’m feeling some big thoughts in there. Let her finish.”

You take Piotr’s hands in yours, grounding yourself on the warmth and softness of his skin against yours as you try to put your thoughts together. “I’ve killed people. It’s happened. Sometimes I chose to do it, and sometimes I didn’t. And it doesn’t make it right, but... my powers --and the episodes--don’t automatically mean that I’m going to kill someone. I mean, the episodes aren’t the safest thing ever, but I’m not an automatic threat. I don’t need to be locked away just because of them.” You look up at Alyssa. “I shouldn’t base my whole life around what I think’s gonna happen in the episodes --especially since it doesn’t happen all the time anyway. I deserve more than that.”

“Yes!” Alyssa grins, delighted, and claps her hands. “You do! Oh, look at this beautiful break through! I’m so proud of you! I’m so happy for you!”

Piotr hugs you gently and kisses your temple. “As am I. You deserve the world, Y/N. All of it.”

“Careful. I might just take it.” You smile and close your eyes as you lean against him, just happy to be with him and to be free from the prison you’d made for yourself.

And, granted, it’s complicated. You have a feeling that the deaths you caused in pursuit of the repression serum are always going to be a stain on your memory. On one hand, you hadn’t seen any other way to keep yourself and everyone else safe. On the other hand, you’d been willing to kill people; that wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t a place that you ever wanted to end up in ever again.

But, for the first time in your life, you feel like you can look up. You feel like you can stand straight and look towards the future.

It’s better than you could’ve imagined.


End file.
